


Dinner Plans

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Oral Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke gets bored at a dinner and teases Anders under the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Plans

**Author's Note:**

> written for the dragon age kink meme

Hawke was bored out of her mind. When she agreed to have Aveline and Donnic over for dinner she had thought it would be just like any other night at the Hanged Man. Except cleaner. And she wouldn’t have to worry about getting stabbed or robbed or groped by a drunken fool. None of those things sounded too bad now.   
  
She ran her finger over the rim of her wine glass, subtlety glancing from Aveline to Donnic to Anders. They were discussing mages and Templars and what the responsibility of the guards was in those situations. Anders was in heaven debating the topic he thought most about. Maybe heaven was a bit strong. He was happy in that strange way only arguments could make a person. Like how good it felt to pick a scab even though it hurt and you knew it was going to leave a scar. Maybe Hawke had drank a little too much win. Her metaphors were pretty sloppy.  
  
She gave Donnic credit. He was into the conversation as much as her beloved apostate was. Aveline was gruff and silent—Hawke still hadn’t quite figured out how the combination worked—but didn’t seem angry. The other woman watched her husband as he gesticulated and listened and responded kind. Hawke could see the love and affection her friend had for the man. She spared a look at Anders. She loved him, but Maker could he ever talk. Forever. With those stupid lips of his looking so lovely and his hands moving to underscore some point or another. Beautiful hands really. Strong. Soft. Swift.   
  
Hawke blinked. She had definitely had too much wine.  
  
“Hm, I never thought of it like that,” Donnic relented on a point that Anders made. Beside her the mage grinned the small, controlled grin he used in situations like this. If she were him she would make a bit of a show of it. After all, it didn’t happen all that often. Happy for his little victory she patted his thigh tenderly. She felt his muscles jump beneath her light touch, his response stuttering over a word. Hawke raised an eyebrow and let her hand stay where it was. She saw him flick a look at her from the corner of his before he was back engrossed in his conversation.   
  
“No matter what the Chantry tries to say mages—“ Anders broke off and tried to mask the noise he had made by clearing his throat. “Ahem, excuse me,” he apologized. He reached for his wine glass and took a sip, using the motion to mask the look of confusion and pleading that he sent Hawke’s way. She merely smiled at him innocently. It must have looked awfully suspicious simply on principle. Anders placed his drink back on the table but before he could continue Hawke had stroked him through his trousers again. He sighed as the sensation brought him half hard. “Um,” he cleared his throat again but Hawke heard the muffled groan, “what was I saying?”

“The same thing you’re always saying,” Aveline offered and followed it up with a short laugh. Donnic chuckled. Hawke giggled wickedly. Anders huffed a breath and smiled weakly, his eyes a little far away.   
  
“Right. Yes. Anyway.” Hawke pressed a little harder, her nimble fingers tracing the outline of his growing erection until she had a fairly good hold on it through his pants. His eyelids fluttered closed and he brought his hands over his face for a moment. “Let me just. Collect. My thoughts.” His voice was stilted and halting. Each word a battle to keep the pleasure from bursting through his lips.   
  
“Are you all right?” Donnic asked. “You looked a bit flushed.”  
  
“Talking about this stuff just gets him excited,” Hawke offered. Anders removed his hands from his face seemingly for the sole purpose of fixing her with an insistent look. She wasn’t about to be convinced to stop. This was far too much fun. Making him fight to retain control while two of their friends looked on totally unaware. It was like a game. A sexy, funny, wonderful little game. Hawke bit her lip a little and used her free hand to help herself to another sip from her drink.   
  
“As I was saying,” Anders finally continued. He set his shoulders and his breathing was rhythmic and calm, if not a little loud. He seemed to have learned the timing of her strokes and collected himself enough to function. Well, that was no fun. “The Chantry says that mages are—ah ah ah.” His body twitched and his sentence devolved into nothing intelligible. “Sorry, I thought I had to sneeze…” He muttered pitifully. Now that her hand was inside his pants she could feel the heat of his hardness. How could he keep himself together with such a pounding erection? She wondered, flicking her thumb across the tip and dabbing the pre-cum across the head.   
  
“How much did you drink?” Aveline inquired, looking at the wine glass that he was gripping rather tightly. “You usually don’t. Maybe you went overboard?”  
  
“No. You’re right. I don’t, uh, I don’t really drink.” He looked at Hawke again. “Justice. Doesn’t. Approve.”  
  
“Oh. Well. If there’s about to be some… dispute about drinking maybe we should leave,” Donnic offered, clearly unnerved at the notion of the spirit that inhabited Anders. The man nodded eagerly at the idea.  
  
“Yes. That would, um oh, probably be for the best.”

When they had left—Hawke could hear Aveline muttering about how the pair hadn’t even gotten up from their seats to say goodnight—she pulled her hand away and grinned devilishly at her lover. Anders wheeled on her, grabbing her hip and pulling off of her chair onto his lap. She squealed at the feel of him pressed against her. He kissed roughly at her neck, his stubble and teeth rubbing a raw red trail towards her chest. Hawke moaned deep in her throat.  
  
“You’re absolutely crazy, you know that?” He spoke into her chest.  
  
“Oh, I’ve heard it said once or twice,” she offered, her hips bucking as his mouth worked one of her breasts free.   
  
“I could’ve come. Would you have liked that?” Anders pulled back from her chest and propped her up onto the table. He yanked at her pants. “Me squirting all over Donnic’s lap under the table?” She hadn’t thought about it but now she was. She licked her lip a little and gave an innocent shrug.   
  
“I don’t know what I like.” He gave her a look of pure, unbridled desire and she felt her core go aflame. Maker, it wasn’t fair. He could get her going with only a look while she had to labor tirelessly under a table. “What do I like, Anders, show me.”  
He gripped her thighs and pulled them apart so he could work his head between them. Her smalls were still on but he pressed his tongue against her anyway, knowing her folds and openings better than anyone. Even through her underclothes the hot, hard feeling of his tongue was enough to send a shiver of pleasure through her. His breath was beating against her, heavy and panting and oh Maker she hadn’t realized she had been so aroused.   
  
She smelled singed fabric and the next thing she knew there was no barrier between his mouth and her clit and he was lapping her up like she was made to be eaten. And maybe, when it was him, she was. Her whole body shook and when she felt the waves of orgasm beginning to crest over her he stopped. She went to yell out, complain, beg but a second later he had pulled her hard onto his waiting cock and she screamed for a different reason. They rocked together maybe once, maybe twice, maybe a hundred times and more. Hawke couldn’t tell. Her mind was awash in ecstasy. When they had both come she laid her head on the crook of his neck, her fingers playing with the feathers on his robe.  
  
“We should have them over for dinner more often,” she said with a grin.


End file.
